


A Fortuitous Meeting

by Jupiter_Ash



Series: A Kind of Magic [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 00:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20417093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jupiter_Ash/pseuds/Jupiter_Ash
Summary: Two boys meet on the Hogwarts Express and their lives are forever changed.Another scene from Good Omens at Hogwarts.





	A Fortuitous Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks once again to Geekoncaffeine for the beta.

They met on the Hogwarts Express; the awkward skinny redhead in the dark glasses, and the equally awkward but in a different way, somewhat chubby almost white-blond boy with too many books.

The redhead had arrived and boarded early, finding himself a window seat in a then empty carriage and ignored anyone else who looked to join him.

The blond boy had arrived late, flustered and had plonked himself down on the first acceptable available seat he had found, just grateful to be as far away as he could be from his overbearing family.

“Hi, I’m Aziraphale,” he had said once they were underway, because he had always been taught to be polite. “I see you’re a first year, like me.”

Caught by surprise, the first boy turned his head away from the window long enough to give the second boy a guarded look. “Crowley,” he said after a moment.

“Lovely to meet you, Crowley,” the second boy said and actually held out his hand to shake in a genuine but old fashioned manner.

After a moment, Crowley shook it and that was that. Greeting done, Aziraphale wiggled briefly in his seat and then pulled out one of his books. Crowley watched him for a moment longer, then returned to looking out of the window.

Around them the other kids – first years like them – occupied themselves and the train puffed ever northwards.

The next interruption came from the trolley witch pushing the Honeydukes Express. Aziraphale promptly bought a selection of nearly everything. Crowley didn’t buy anything.

A short while later, the next interruption was not nearly as pleasant.

Aziraphale nearly dropped his Cauldron Cake when the door slammed open and two older kids appeared, scowls marring their faces.

“Crowley, there you are!”

The boy by the window turned to them, eyes widening behind his tinted glasses.

“Hastur, Ligur,” he said tentatively. “So, uh, lovely to see you.”

“Hiding away, I see,” Hastur said.

“Ashamed of us, are you?” Ligur added.

“Ashamed, no, nah, never,” Crowley said quickly. “I just figured you lot wouldn’t want a-a houseless first year hanging all over you, cramping your style.” 

“You thought right,” Ligur said. 

“Not houseless for long though,” Hastur added, a far from pleasant look on his face. “You know what to do.”

“Houses, yes, of course,” Crowley responded.

“And why are you wearing those,” Hastur said sharply. 

With a flick of his wrist, Crowley’s glasses flew from his face, knocking into the seat just above Aziraphale’s head.

By the time he had recovered from the shock and looked up it was to a look of utter horror on his new acquaintance’s face, made more obvious by the black slitted wide amber eyes. Then they were gone and Crowley was diving for the glasses, even while the two boys in the doorway sniggered.

“You should be proud of who you are,” the one called Hastur said.

“Not cowering away like a snivelling Hufflepuff,” Ligur added.

“You’re one of us,” Hastur continued. “Slytherin. A snake. It’s in your very essence. Marked in your very soul.”

Eyes like a snake, Aziraphale realised, and the other two boys were wearing the green of Slytherin.

“We’ll be watching you, remember,” Hastur said as Crowley dared to look up again, the glasses grasped in his hand. “Don’t let us down.”

“Of course not,” Crowley said. “Slytherin all the way!”

But the boys had now gone, the door slamming behind them.

Crowley stared at the door for a moment, his body tense as if he was ready to fight or flee, but then the air seemed to go out of him, his shoulders dropping as he hung his head, wiping at his face as he pushed his glasses back on. Returning to his seat, he slumped down and returned to staring out of the window.

Right, Aziraphale thought as the other kids in the carriage quietly edged further away from the other boy and quickly found something to busy themselves with.

“Uh, would you like a Cauldron Cake?” he asked tentatively. 

The Crowley boy looked at him in the reflection of the window, his eyebrows pulling down in confusion.

“They really are rather nice,” Aziraphale added helpfully.

There was a pause but then the Crowley boy was sort of uncurling himself and turning toward him. Aziraphale held the box out, shaking it encouragingly. Hesitantly, Crowley reached in and picked out a cake.

Wiggling in his seat, Aziraphale pulled a new one out for himself as well and set about eating it.

“My family are all Gryffindors,” Aziraphale he said after a moment, not really noticing as the other boy stiffened at that. “My cousin, Gabriel, he’s the Head Boy,” he continued. “Everyone’s really proud. And Michael’s a prefect. Gryffindor as well. Well, they’re all Gryffindors, like I said.”

He paused slightly as he looked down at his cake.

“I don’t want to be a Gryffindor though,” he admitted. “I’m not like them. I’ve never really been like them.”

This was the first time he had ever said this out loud.

He fiddled with his cake

“What do you want to be then?” Crowley finally asked as he turned his own cake around in his hand, picking from the edges.

“Oh, well,” Aziraphale said, suddenly brightening, “I had thought a Ravenclaw. I really like books you see. And learning things. And finding out about all sort of interesting facts.” He gave the other boy a shy smile. “What about you though?”

Crowley snorted. “Slytherin, the whole lot of them,” he said. “My family that is. Well, if you can call it family. I don’t think they like me much.”

Aziraphale nodded as if to say that he had gathered as much.

“Don’t think I would be a Slytherin even if I wanted to be,” Crowley continued. “And I really, really don’t want to be.”

Aziraphale nodded, he understood that feeling.

“They’d kill me if I was a Gryffindor though,” Crowley said, “and I don’t think I’d fit in there either.”

Aziraphale could only agree with that. He had seen what his cousins could do to people who were not quite like them. He’d been on the receiving end of it enough times. Gryffindors might be held up as being brave and courageous, but they could be judgemental and mean as well. 

“So I suppose either of the other two would be fine,” Crowley said. “It’s not like we get much of a choice.”

“Oh, I think we do,” Aziraphale said brightly. “I’ve been doing some reading see, and from what I’ve gathered the Sorting Hat will take our preferences into account. So if you don’t want to be in Slytherin or Gryffindor then tell and it probably won’t put you into that house.”

“Probably?” Crowley said, perking up slightly.

“Possibly,” Aziraphale corrected. “Maybe. Perhaps. But the point is, if we’re determined not to be put into certain houses then we could well be okay.”

“Is that what you’re planning on doing?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale nodded. “If possible I’m going to ask for Ravenclaw, but if not, definitely not Gryffindor… or Slytherin.”

“Aren’t-aren’t your family going to be disappointed if you’re not a Gryffindor?”

“They’re going to be horrified,” Aziraphale said cheerfully. “And you know what, I’m sort of looking forward to it.”


End file.
